


Crisis Of Faith

by Flutiebear



Series: Walk Beside Me [1]
Category: Dragon Quest Series, Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Damsels in Distress, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Erik Gets Tied To A Pole, M/M, Rescue Missions, Sort Of, Spoilers, Spoilers Through Gondolia, Vague allusions to events later on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 16:26:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16245455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flutiebear/pseuds/Flutiebear
Summary: Erik has a crisis of faith, until the Luminary comes to his rescue. Retelling of the events of Gondolia, from Erik's point of view. Spoilers for Gondolia, obviously, with vague allusions to things that happen later on in the game. If you haven't yet gotten past, say, Dundrasil, tread with care.





	Crisis Of Faith

**Author's Note:**

> I am back on my bullshit, it seems. Everything about DQXI is MY JAM.
> 
> Spoilers for Gondolia follow, obviously, though I skipped like 95% of the bits all of us already played. There are two or three vague allusions to things that happen later on in the game, but if you're not there yet, you probably won't catch them. Still, if you want to be totally spoiler-free, tread carefully.

When you come to, you're tied to a pole like a pig trussed for roast. Rope that stinks of stale canal water and horseshit squeezes you from neck to knee. You can barely draw breath. You barely want to.

Before you is a wall of at least twenty Helodorian guards, kitted out in royal blue standards and steel. They make an awful racket. It's a wonder you were able to sleep at all, mortal wound or no.

Your back still aches where Jasper's spell split you open, but the pain isn't quite so raw, for whatever that's worth. The guards must have healed you while you were unconscious. Why? You don't know. You were supposed to be dead. Dying is pretty much all you're good for, anyway.

Jasper tried to kill the Luminary, and he got you instead. You can't help but take a petty little thrill at that.

The last you saw, Serena was dragging the Luminary away from you—literally dragging him, both her hands tugging at his arm, as he strained back toward you, screaming wordlessly, his beautiful face contorted in rage and fear.

You never saw the back of him, the idiot.

But you're here and he's not, which means he must be somewhere safe. The twins will make sure of that. Maybe Sylvando too. He seems a decent sort, for a jester. Hopefully the three of them are halfway to Yggdrasil by now.

 _I bought you time,_ you'd told him. _Use it!_

What you hadn't said was that all his righteous anger and worry on your behalf was sorely misplaced. He's the Luminary. You're a derelict. This was how it was always meant to end. Him marching off to meet his heroic destiny and you—well, it's not quite a shank in a gutter, but meeting your fate at the business end of a Helidorian pike comes pretty close to taking the pot.    

It still burns, though. You _want_ to be by his side. You know you shouldn't, but you do. When you're with him, it almost feels like the missing piece of you is within reach. Like you might even have a destiny of your own.

Besides if you're not there, who will watch out for _him_? Make sure he's eating, that he's keeping an eye on his purse. Make him laugh. Make him rest. Goddess knows Serena can't be bothered; her head's forever in the clouds. And Veronica's always too mad about something or other. Sylvando? He seems more interested in dramatic entrances and exits than in sticking around for the long haul.

That just leaves you, and the horse.

You suppose the Luminary will just have to figure it out for himself. Who knows, maybe he'll luck upon an older brother or sister on his travels. Someone who'll take care of him, who will jump off cliffs with him in your stead.

You smile sadly at the memory of your leap of faith off Cobblestone Falls: All that water stretching out before you. All that fear and excitement and _hope_. Anything felt possible.

A soldier in yellow trots up to the line of guards before you. One of his fellows greets him, but you can't see who it is. His posture is ridiculous and perfect, though, so he must be the Commander. You keep your head bowed, so they don't notice you're awake.

"We've canvassed the town. There's no sign of the Darkspawn," comes the tinny voice from inside the helmet.

You weren't aware that the human heart had capacity to feel relief and despair at once. The time with the Luminary has taught you all sorts of things, it seems.

"I imagine not," replies a voice like silk, and your blood curdles. The wound in your back gives a painful throb.

_Jasper._

"Sir?"

"When the cat stirs, the mouse scurries back to his hole." You wince. That's Jasper, all right. Of all the many villains you've met on your travels, only Jasper talks like some evil wizard out of a fairytale. What you wouldn't give to knock the elocution right out of him.

The guard hesitates, confused. "Er, sh-should we search the environs, Sir? Or take ship and search the sea—"

Jasper stops him with a wave of his hand. "This time, the mouse shall come to the cat. Of this, I am certain." Jasper's voice turns giddy and cruel. "For we have in our possession his favorite cheese."    

Your skin runs hot, then cold as the reality of your situation sinks in. You suddenly realize why Jasper and his goons have kept you alive.

You're _bait_.

Goddess damned bait.

Of course you are. Of bleeding course you are. Because the Luminary is the hero in this story, and that's what heroes do; they save their friends from the villain's clutches, even when it is clearly, plainly, _profoundly_ a bad idea.

Looks like Jasper had a better measure of him than you do. You try not to let that sting.

At this point, you can only pray that between the three of them, Serena, Veronica and Sylvando can keep the Luminary from coming back to rescue you—even if, at the same time, some wild part of you desperately hopes that they can't.

Of course, it dawns on you, he can't rescue you if you escape first.

As discreetly as you can, you wriggle a little against your bonds, testing them for weakness. All it gets you is solid wood jammed into the still-open wound in your back. You bite back a hiss of pain.  

Not quietly enough, it seems. Jasper slowly turns toward you, a cruel smirk on his face.

"Ah, so you stir." He steps toward you, his gleaming sabatons clinking like guillotine blades. "Fear not, thief. Your part in this tale will be over soon."

"Eat an ursa's balls," you sneer, and spit on his left toe.

Jasper blinks. Then he laughs, full-throated and deep. Casually, he lifts the sabaton you spat on. You have barely enough time to register that it is spiked at the heel before he drives it, hard, into your belly, in the precise, exacting strike of a torturer who knows all the places to hurt a man most.

You gasp. Jasper laughs again.

"What precious noises you make," he says. "No wonder the Darkspawn delights in you. Perhaps, while we await his return, we should see if we can get you to sing."

"Return? Here?" You force a laugh. "Hate to tell you, but he's halfway to who-knows-where by now."

"Tsk, tsk." Jasper grinds the heel of his boot into your chest, so that the pole digs right into your wound. You hiss in pain. "Lying is a sin."

Even up close, Jasper looks cut from marble, with a carven jaw and cheekbones that could slice you to ribbons. He's beautiful; not in the same way the Luminary is, of course, but in the way that a well-honed blade can dazzle the light, right before it buries itself in your heart.

"Of course he will come for you." Jasper's breath is sweet and warm on your cheeks. It makes you want to gag. "He will always come for _you._ And when he does, I shall tear your flesh from your bones while he watches."

Fear shivers through you—but not, strangely, for yourself. Well, mostly.

"You're wrong," you manage. "I'm nothing special to him. I barely know him. We were just traveling in the same direction for awhile."

You grimace. Though it's the truth, your words sound hollow, even to you. It's true you've spent only a few short weeks in each other's company. But to you, at least, it has made all the difference.

In response, Jasper gives you a pitying look.

"Your loyalty is admirable," he says. "But heroism suits you ill, thief."

You grit your teeth. You can't really argue with that.

From somewhere down the docks comes a distant commotion: Men shouting, torches flashing. At this hour, the noise can only have one cause.

Your heart races. It's him. It has to be. Nobody else in Erdrea is as shit at stealth as he is.

Jasper notices the commotion at the same time you do. His eyes narrow, then he turns back to you. His lips curl. There's a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "You were saying?"

You look away.

"Men," Jasper addresses his guards. "Fan out. Let us make our mouse work for it."

Almost as an afterthought, he waves his hand. There's a flash of purple, and you are put to sleep.

**

When you again wake, little has changed. You're still tied to a post, guarded by twenty men. Your back still throbs in pain.

Jasper is gone, though, and the shouts you heard earlier have died down. You hope that doesn't bode ill for the Luminary.

Then you hear a rustle behind the dais. You search the shadows, your heart beating wildly, as if it might break free of your ribcage. And then suddenly, you spot him.

He's _there._ The Luminary is there.

He came back. 

For _you_.

He's soaking wet; mud-splashed and perfect hair bedraggled. There's a few new sword slashes on his tunic, and what appears to be soot scorches on his cheeks. But right now, he's never looked more wonderful to you. By the Goddess, he's the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.

You meet eyes with him and you feel that familiar pull, the same one you felt the day you met and every day since: that tug deep inside you toward a greater purpose; and you know, instantly and inevitably, that you'd throw yourself in front of a thousand killing spells for him. That you'd give everything you are or ever will be for him. Gladly. Not just because he's the Luminary, but because of who he is besides that.

He's your knight in sea-drenched armor.

He's the one who came back.

He puts a finger to his lips to mime silence. You give the barest of nods. Then he creeps up the dais to your side and pulls a small dagger from his side pouch to cut through the rope. His fingers make deft, quick work of your bonds.

As the rope slides free, you feel the brief, violent urge to wrap your arms around him and kiss him senseless.

_Oh._

That's new.

Well, you can examine that feeling later, because now he's shoving your boomerang and a dagger back into your hands and motioning you to follow him. You notice Veronica and Serena motioning wildly to you from the shadows. Sylvando too. The gang's all here.

Your heart feels like it could soar up to Erdwin's Lantern. They all came back for you, it seems, though for what it's worth, you don't much feel like kissing Sylvando. Your friends. They came back for you.

And for a brief moment, you almost think the five of you will make it; that you can do anything; that all these heroics and derring-do will work out just fine--

Until you hear a familiar sneer.

"Welcome back, Darkspawn," says Jasper.

The Luminary shoves you behind him. He draws his broadsword. His stance is fierce, bold. He's not fighting to survive. He's fighting to protect. To protect _you._

You can't remember the last time that happened, if it ever did.

You stand on wobbly legs. Your flayed back seizes, but you ignore the pain, because like hell you're going to sit this fight out.

**

The next events happen in a blur. You fight Jasper. You escape on Sylvando's boat. You fight a giant squid. You escape again. Fight and flight. Resistance and evasion, again and again. It might as well be your life story.

And then, somehow, you've eluded your would-be captors for good, and you're sailing out on the inland sea, leaving Gondolia and Jasper's regiment behind you.

It's creeping towards dawn. You're exhausted, but you can't sleep. You can only sit on the prow of this new ship, hugging your knees, staring at the undefined space on the horizon caught between sea and sky.

Anything could be out there. Or inside of you. It feels like the uncertainty of it all might swallow you whole.

You don't even notice when he sits down next to you. One moment, you're lost in the churn of the waves; and the next, he's beside you, warm and solid and real.  

"You came back for me." You can't even bear to look at him, like a candle shining in the dark, one that hurts your eyes to see. "Thank you."

He doesn't say anything. He doesn’t need to. He just rests his arm around your shoulder, and briefly, you allow yourself to lean into him a little, letting the weight of that hand that bears the Mark to anchor you to this time and to this place.

To him.

Everybody wants something from the Luminary, it seems. You suppose you're no different.

You don't know how long you two sit there, watching the clouds turn grey, then pink.

"I don't want to be a burden to you," you whisper, your words so soft even you can barely hear them. "I promise, I won't be."

The hand still gripping your shoulder squeezes once, tightly. Like he needs this physical contact as much as you do. Like he'll never let you go again.

You feel the same way.

The day you met, you put your faith in the Luminary; and it served you well. You grabbed his hand by the Mark and leapt off the tallest waterfall in Heliodor, without a scratch on either of you.

But now, you know you won't—you can't—put your faith in the Luminary any longer. You will put your faith in _him._

The skies may fall, the seas may boil. The World Tree itself might tumble to the ground. But you—you will never lose faith again.


End file.
